Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“For as long as my dad’s away. Probably a few more months max. He hasn’t bought his return ticket, because they’re sort of winging the whole trip.”
“What’s he doing again?”
“Touring Europe with his girlfriend.”
“Damn. Nice life.”
“Yeah, well, he earned it.” I opened the ketchup and poured some onto my plate. “I’m staying at the house, making sure everything’s kosher while he’s gone.”
My father had busted his ass raising me as a single father. We never took vacations, and he rarely did anything for himself. A couple of years ago, he met a woman he really connected with. It was the first real relationship I could ever remember him having. He turned fifty this year and became eligible to retire early from the fire department. So that’s what he did. He and Sheryl decided to tour Europe. He almost didn’t go, because he felt guilty about leaving my grandfather. We didn’t have any other family locally. But I assured him I’d handle everything. It was the least I could do for a man who’d devoted his entire life to raising me. And I wasn’t easy. Despite my dad’s best efforts, I’d acted out a lot as a kid. Even though my grades were good and I excelled at sports, I gave him a run for his money, constantly getting into fights and stirring up trouble. I owed him a lot.
That night, after I returned home from dinner with Eric, I kicked my feet up on the couch and decided to Google Aspyn Dumont. The first thing to come up in my search was her sister’s obituary from eight years ago. While it didn’t list a cause of death, it said she’d left behind a six-month-old daughter. That made my chest hurt. Ashlyn Dumont was only twenty-four when she died. Ashlyn and Aspyn. They must have been close. I was an only child, but I couldn’t imagine losing a sibling. My chest tightened. I felt guilty once again for taunting Aspyn about staying in Meadowbrook now that I knew she’d been helping to care for her niece. That wasn’t an easy life.
I couldn’t change how I’d treated Aspyn in high school or the nasty things I’d said about her behind her back. But I could at least try to show her I’d changed. The big question was: had I changed? Or was I still that same selfish asshole?
That question gave me pause, and I honestly didn’t know the answer. All I knew was that being back in Meadowbrook sure as hell made me feel like the bad guy again. I wanted to be a better person, and somehow, it mattered to me to show her I was. But why?
Aspyn felt like the personification of all my past mistakes, so maybe getting her to like me would absolve me of my sins.
• • •
On Thursday afternoon, when my second outing of the week with Nonno rolled around, Aspyn looked happy as always to see me when she met us in his room. Not.
“Are those donuts on your scrubs?” I asked.
“I wore them in honor of you.” She flashed a genuine smile.
Figures. The first real smile I get from her is related to trying to poison me.
“Did you buy those just for me?”
“Believe it or not, I already had them.”
“I do believe it, actually.”
“My scrubs are conversation pieces around here.”
“Then I think you should tell everyone what the donuts represent. Or might you be too ashamed to admit that you almost shit me to death?” I laughed, noticing she did the same. “I like that you’re finding your sense of humor, though.”
“It took me a while to dust it off. But it was in there, after all.”
When she smiled again, I noticed slight creases around her eyes. My stare might have lingered a bit too long.
“Ready to go?” she asked, interrupting my gaze.
I cleared my throat. “Yup.”
“Let’s roll,” my grandfather said as he wheeled himself to the door.
Since it was a dry, summer day, I thought it would be nice to spend our time outdoors. I’d promised Nonno I’d bring the cigar we’d bought at the mall on Tuesday so he could smoke it.
The three of us packed into my car and drove to a nearby park. Once I pulled into a parking spot, I removed a large Ziploc bag with the cigars I’d brought from my glove compartment.
We picked a spot under a shady tree. I took my grandfather’s cigar out of the bag and handed it to him. “Here’s your Macanudo, Nonno.”
After he placed it between his teeth, I lit a match and held it to the tip.
“Thank you, good sir.” He puffed on the stogie and flashed a huge smile. “This is the life.”
I chuckled. It certainly didn’t take much to please him. I hoped I could be that easily satisfied someday.